


Betraying

by caffeinatedmusing



Series: The Ups and Downs of Being a Thief [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Betrayal, Brynjolf trying to hold things together even though hes not much better, Canon-Typical Violence, Double Life, Doubt, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Jealousy, Lies, Rune being a wreck, Thieves Guild, Thieves Guild Questline, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatedmusing/pseuds/caffeinatedmusing
Summary: When Mercer returns alone from Snow Veil Sanctum and claims to have killed Brynjolf's newest recruit in self defense, those who were closest to her have to make some fast decisions about where their loyalties lie.While Mercer plots his next move, Rune and Brynjolf take the time to look for answers and ask some difficult questions.





	Betraying

Brynjolf eases the door open; it's unlocked. He's never set foot in his newest protege's home before, though he'd be lying if he'd said he hadn't been curious. Now, though, it's all business. He has to know.

Rough hewn floor boards creak underfoot. He doesn't have to go far. Rune is slumped at the kitchen table, surrounded by books, papers, and empty bottles, a lit joint between his fingers. He doesn't look up as Bryn drops heavily into the chair opposite.

A long drag, and he offers the thin roll of smouldering nirnroot to Bryn, who takes it, filling his lungs and holding it until he can't, coughing out the acrid smoke in unsteady bursts. 

They let the silence stretch for a little bit. 

Bryn hands the joint back, watching his former protege. Rune's face doesn't betray much that he hadn't already expected; exhaustion, numbness, denial. 

Mercer's paranoid if he thinks Rune was helping her.

"How're you holding up, lad?" 

Red rimmed eyes glower at him briefly before Rune flips a page in what he's been reading. 

"How do you think?" It's so quiet Bryn almost misses that he said anything at all.

Looking around, the place looks as if its been thoroughly tossed. Clothes strewn about, drawers pulled open and dumped to check that nothing was pinned beneath. Books and things pulled from shelves. Furniture out of place.

It isn't until his eyes come to rest on an open wall safe previously hidden behind a painting, and a broken display case that Brynjolf realizes there's more here than first meets the eye. He lets his gaze drift over everything again, cataloguing the bits that fit with what he knows against those that don't.

Bookshelves are a mix. Nothing except the tomes Rune's already liberated from the display case stand out as anything but ordinary. Some expensive items; loot from heists she's done off the books? An axe hanging on the wall, some kind of horse head design etched into it. He's willing to bet its enchanted. The clothes and small sundries that aren't hers are probably Rune's.

He tries not to think of the woman who caught his eye in a crowded market. Who laughed at his flirtations. Who made him feel like this Guild, this job, could be fun again. Until he'd begun to think of her too often. He'd distanced himself. Shored up the barriers between them with guild business and jobs on opposite sides of the country. Kept himself busy.

He needn't have worried. 

She and Rune had come back from a job a little too flushed, a little too shy, for success to have been their only cause. They'd been sleeping together ever since. 

He hated to be jealous. Rune was his protege as much as she was, one of only two including Sapphire, who had stayed on when things went sour. The man was Bryn's younger brother in every way save for blood. Seeing them both happy, well, it was Bryn's own fault that he wasn't happy.

Bryn reaches over and lifts one of the books off the table next to him. Looks at the spine. Flips open the title page. Its leather and heavy, the paper age-browned and water stained. Beneath the tang of smoke, he can pick up on old book scent saturated by mildew. 

Vekel or Enthir are the ones to ask about old books. Brynjolf's never been interested beyond how much gold he ought to get for it, but even he can see this has to be a collector's item. _Atlas of Dragons.1st ed. Signed and illustrated._ All the other books, at a glance, are to do with dragons as well. And...is that a _real_ scale?

 _Why would she have these?_ He sets it back down, focusing on the papers instead. Contents of the safe? He suspects Rune would not rob her. Not yet, anyway. Later, when his grief and confusion give over to anger, then he might well be looking for a little payback. Brynjolf won't blame him if and when that happens.

The contents of the safe, though, Bryn thinks he'd be interested in getting at look at those. If the lass had anything to hide, that's where he would bet to find it. He eases a folder out from under the book Rune is pretending to read, though he's just staring at it now, face half obscured by trailing smoke. 

A Thalmor dossier on one 'Esbern', a member of a group called the Blades. Bryn recalls a lanky old man who talks with his hands, spinning conspiracy theories as his voice gets louder and louder while he sits at the bar, waiting for his room assignment down in the bowels of the Ratway. Maybe they weren't all theories...

_But what has she got to do with that?_

Rune takes a moment to relight the joint, takes another drag, and hands it back to Bryn, who fills his lungs again, exhaling smoothly this time. There's a small dish on the table, something Rune grabbed off the crockery shelf, already holding several charred little butts. All signs say he's been here all night, drinking and smoking and trying to make sense of this. Whatever this is.

Bryn sets the folder back down and thumbs through a stack of papers. A signature catches his eye. He pulls that sheet free. 

A contract. For the Dark Brotherhood. With his protege's name on it. Signed by Maven Blackbriar. The date is from several years ago.

Brynjolf's head spins. 

_What in Oblivion is going on here?_

From what Delvin had told him, he didn't think that outfit operated on a cash payment basis. He wonder's if someone is freelancing on the side. Delvin might know. But even so, that does nothing to explain.... 

This time, when Rune offers, he waves the nirnroot away. He needs to keep a clear head, no matter how much he might wish otherwise.

"It's funny." Rune's voice makes him start. "I came up here tonight thinking to rip the place apart, to see if I could find anything, a reason _why_. I thought, she must have left something...."

"And did you?" Bryn already knows the answer, but at least Rune is talking. Which is a small sight better than a Rune who's so dead silent that Bryn is having trouble remembering he's even there. 

Either that or the nirnroot is stronger than he thought it would be,which is also possible. It's been a long while since he's smoked any.

Rune inhales smoke, and sighs out a long slow cloud before stubbing out the last little end in the ashtray bowl.

"I've found plenty. Just not one reason, not a single answer. All I have now are more questions."

"Aye." Brynjolf holds up the contract again. "She was into something she oughtn't to be, that much is clear."

Rune's face darkens into a scowl. 

"Is that what all this looks like to you? I don't know. And I don't believe Mercer. Bryn, what are the odds...? It's his word alone. He expects us to believe this is a continuation of shit that happened twenty years back? What Karliah's done, that takes patience, skill, and most of all, it takes hatred. She _hates_ Mercer. Why? What happened between them?"

Brynjolf remembers jealousy, possessiveness, a two sided love triangle with Mercer on the wrong side. The fights Mercer would pick with Gallus over every little thing. The night he'd gotten drunk and called Karliah a whore. Gallus had punched him. Everyone rolling their eyes over the sideshow drama of it all. But Karliah had never professed to hate Mercer, even after that. She just didn't love him the way he wanted her to. An older thief had told Bryn that they were getting what they deserved. 'No thief knows how to love without coveting, without greed, without wanting to take that thing for themselves. Some things we're just not meant to have.'

"Lad, this is heavy business. If she did, whatever her reasons, I'm not sure it matters anymore. As for Mercer and Karliah, I don't know."

"You were there."

"Aye. And I'm here, now. That doesn't make it any more clear to me. Now, come on back down. Leave this for another day. Get something to eat. Get some rest. Mercer thinks Karliah means to pay us a visit soon. If he's right, then we''ll need to be set to defend. I need you sober." He pushes his chair back and stands, waiting. 

This house it too close, too still, too full of...questions. He wants the cool shadows of the Ratway, the quiet, the familiar. Things that make sense.

"Bryn? Promise me something." Rune's gaze on him is sudden and intense.

"What is it, lad?" He dreads whats coming. He can't spare a thought for her, not if Mercer won't. 

Mercer won't. He never does.

 _What will this do to us all?_ They'd just begun to feel like family, again.

"Promise me you're at least considering the possibility that he's lying. That Mercer is lying. Something happened that we don't know. That maybe he gave them reason."

Brynjolf feels a lurch in his chest; it's an old, heavy weight, slightly offset, tumbler turning over with a thunk a second after the lock pins have been lined up. Mercer has been his Guildmaster for...well, so long that he can barely remember Gallus. His more vivid memories are of the days following Gallus' death, when both the Ratway and the streets above ran red with the blood of usurpers, mutineers, challengers, and guards. When no one felt safe and everyone slept with a blade under their pillow. Mercer had become the ruthless, iron hand they had needed to keep them together. To survive until some stability could once again be eked out of their shadowy, illegal existence. Until profits had started coming in again. To consider that he might be the cause....

Brynjolf scrubs his hands over his face, trying unsuccessful, to rub the fatigue away.

"Aye, lad." His voice is barely above a whisper. It's hard to meet Rune's eyes, but once he does, he can't look away.

"I am considering the possibility."

Rune nods, once. He closes the book and stands, unsteady after sitting still for so long. Or maybe its the drugs and the alcohol. He seems unsure of what to do until Bryn motions for him to follow. Rune locks the door behind them on the way out. He has a key, Bryn realizes. It's how he got in earlier. 

All the more reason to get him back down into the cistern, to his own bunk, where her memory won't be so strong.

The two thieves walk back to the Ratway in silence.

There are no answers here, nothing more that can be done tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Just me filling in more scenes we never got. I'm curious to know what Mercer told them and I think some of them would have wondered, if not outright refused to believe his version of events. Also, finding random bits of evidence from the DB's life would probably be pretty confusing/alarming for anyone who had no reason to suspect they were DB.


End file.
